


star spangled dog

by cas_makes_me_very_happy



Series: the dog days are over [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Avengers, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, How Do I Tag, Humor, I hope, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers is a Golden Retriever, True Love's Kiss, bucky is the angst, i dont really know when this is set, magic fixes everything, not really lmao, sorta - Freeform, steve is the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 15:33:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18034388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cas_makes_me_very_happy/pseuds/cas_makes_me_very_happy
Summary: orthe one where Steve is a dog but Bucky doesn't realise he isn't all dog





	star spangled dog

Bucky stood and stared at the golden retriever sitting on the sofa, its head resting on the armrest as it gazed towards the bedrooms.

“Okay, since when did Tony lift the pet ban?”

The dog’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice and it swung its head around to look at him. It let out an excited bark and tumbled off the couch in its haste to get up. It bounded over to Bucky, its tail going mad, and jumped up at him. Bucky staggered under the weight, grunting. Its paws reached his shoulders.

It started slobbering all over his face. Was he being attacked?

He pushed at it. “Ew. No. Down.”

The dog flopped back to the ground but continued to gaze up at him with big, blue eyes. It whined.

Bucky wiped a hand over his face, flicking slobber onto Tony’s fancy rug. “Barton! Is this your dog? It ruined my hair with its drool!”

Bucky wandered into the kitchen, the dog literally on his heels. A door opened and closed down the hall and then Sam, not Barton, appeared with Natasha behind him.

“Barnes,” Wilson said, and Bucky had never heard him sound so relieved at Bucky’s presence. “Thank God you’re back.”

Bucky frowned, dumping his bags on the counter. The dog put its paws up and sniffed in interest at Bucky’s haul. Bucky pushed it away again. “All right. Whose dog?”

Sam and Natasha shared a look.

Sam yelled, “Shotgun not!”

Natasha gave him a look that would’ve made even Bucky balk. She looked at Bucky. “It’s Steve.”

And immediately Bucky was on edge. “What about Steve?”

Sam must’ve caught the tone in Bucky’s voice, the warning that things were about to go to shit, because he lurched forward. “He’s fine! Steve’s fine. Well,” Sam hesitated, “he’s not hurt, at least.”

“Where is he?” Bucky asked, fighting to stay calm. Steve had been here when Bucky had left not even an hour ago. He started towards the back of the compound. “Steve!” The dog leapt up to follow.

Natasha caught his arm, a dangerous thing when he was this close to freaking out. “James.” She never called him James. “Steve’s right here.”

“What?” Bucky glanced at Sam. Sam pointed down to somewhere around Bucky’s knees. Bucky looked down. The dog was still right beside him, fluffy and yellow and looking back up with doeful blue eyes. Bucky’s own widened. “No.”

“Yep,” Sam said.

“That’s–?”

“Yes,” Natasha.

“You’re fucking kidding.” Bucky looked at the dog. The dog looked at Bucky. God, those were some blue eyes. “Steve?”

The dog’s mouth dropped open in a pant and its tail thumped against the floorboards.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to wake up from this weird-ass dream. When he opened the eyes again, the dog – Steve – was still at his feet, scratching an ear.

“I only went out to get snacks. What the hell happened?”

“Steve fought some Nazis,” Sam said, exasperated. “What else?”

“And they turned him into a dog?”

“They had these weird guns. Fired some red light. And obviously Steve ran right into the thick of it.”

Bucky glared down at the dog and it’s still-wagging tail. “Obviously,” he growled. “Is it permanent?”

“I hope not.”

“Is he still… in there?”

All three of them looked at the retriever. Steve had noticed his own wagging tail and was now attempting to eat it.

“I’m gonna say no,” Sam said.

“He hasn’t shown any signs that he knows what’s going on,” Natasha said. She had a strange look on her face as she watched Steve simultaneously chomp on his tail and wag it. Bucky realised she was trying not to laugh. “He had his head out the window the whole drive back.”

“Shit,” Bucky said. “What do we do?”

“Sam and I were looking through some files when you came home. There might be something in there, otherwise I think we’re going to have to get some help.”

“What about the guys that did this to them?”

“They kinda got away in the confusion,” Sam admitted. “One minute Steve was throwing his shield like a pro, the next he was playing fetch with it.”

Bucky ran a hand down his face. “Where did they even come from?”

“I feel like Steve somehow conjures bad guys out of thin air when he’s in a mood.”

That could almost be true. And he’d definitely been in a mood when Bucky had left – they both had. But while Bucky had stormed out to get snacks, apparently Steve had stormed out to punch Nazis.

It never used to be this bad, the fighting. Sure, they’d gotten mad with each other all through the 30s and definitely during the war, but this was different. They were different. Bucky didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt like Steve wanted him to change, to be the Bucky from their childhood, the fallen hero. But that wasn’t something Bucky could ever be again. He couldn’t change without changing everything about himself, and he’d already worked so hard to find any sense of self at all.

It wasn’t only Steve, though. Bucky knew he was to blame too. He still found himself doing a double-take when he walked into the kitchen expecting skinny Steve and found himself face to face with Hercules instead. He knew sometimes he didn’t look past the shield, and he knew Steve hated that.

Bucky knew he was being distant. He knew when he was making things difficult. He knew Steve was trying, and Bucky was trying too, honestly, but he was just so damn scared he would wake up one day to find Steve had finally moved on.

So they deliberately aggravated each other. They pushed buttons only they would know to push until one or both of them stormed off, Bucky to eat his feelings and Steve to beat them out against a punching bag.

When they came back, things wouldn’t be better, exactly, but Bucky would feel the tension drain from his shoulders and see the relief in Steve’s eyes and he knew he would hold on to Steve as long as Steve would let him.

And now Steve was a dog.

Bucky needed chocolate.

He ripped open a Kitkat block he’d actually bought for Steve and was about to shove it into his mouth when he caught Steve gazing up at him, silently begging.

“Chocolate isn’t good for dogs,” Bucky said. “Sorry, pal.”

-

They went over the files for the rest of the afternoon, and well into the night. When Steve came trotting out of the hallway with a tennis ball in his mouth, tail swishing, demanding Bucky throw it for him, Bucky broke.

He didn’t even know where the hell Steve had gotten the ball from, but seeing him with it suddenly made this real. Steve was a dog. Steve was gone, and a golden retriever was nudging the tennis ball closer to Bucky, tail wagging.

Bucky stood suddenly. He couldn’t do this.

He ignored the doggy betrayal in Steve’s eyes and the concerned looks from Sam and Natasha, and fled to his room.

Tears stung his eyes and burned the back of his throat. He buried his face in the pillows and sobbed until exhaustion swallowed him.

Sleep didn’t last.

Bucky woke with a start, chest heaving. He sat up as he blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the memories dragged out of the depths of his mind by the nightmare. He was covered in sweat but his throat wasn’t hoarse, which meant he hadn’t been screaming this time. Thank God.

The room was silent but for his breathing.

When he could see less of the darkness of his mind and more of the darkness of his room, he glanced at his phone. Shit, he’d only been asleep for little over an hour. He slumped back against his pillows even though he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep.

There was a sound outside his bedroom. Something scratched against the door. Bucky lay still, still trying to steady his breathing. Steve scratched at the door again and whined.

“Go away,” Bucky said. “I’m sleeping.”

Steve barked, and the door shuddered as though he was throwing his shaggy body against it.

“Barnes!” Wilson shouted from down the hall. “Shut your fucking dog up!”

“He’s not my fucking dog!” Bucky shouted back.

Steve barked again. The door shook in its hinges. Christ, he was going to break the thing down.

“Barnes!” That was Natasha.

“Okay, okay!” Cursing Nazis and Steve, Bucky swung out of bed. “What’s the matter? You need to pee or something?”

He yanked open the door and Steve barrelled inside, almost knocking Bucky over. Bucky turned as Steve leapt easily onto the bed and flopped down, head on his paws, gazing at Bucky.

Bucky stared at him. “No.”

Steve’s tail thumped against the mattress.

“No. Get down.”

His tail thumped harder as Bucky stalked over. Steve rolled onto his back, legs in the air, whole body wiggling.

Bucky grabbed him and made to drag him off the bed. “No. This is my bed. I’m not sleeping with a dog.”

Steve fell to the ground with a thud, scrambled back to his feet, and immediately leapt back up onto the bed and out of Bucky’s reach.

Bucky glared at him. “Bad dog.”

Steve’s tongue lolled out as he lowered himself onto his front legs, haunches in the air. Did that tail ever stop?

Bucky lunged at him. Steve leapt out of the way, dancing across the pillows, probably getting fur everywhere.

Bucky blew his hair out of his eyes. Right.

He launched himself at Steve, his fingers sliding through fur before they closed around nothing. Steve bounced to the end of the bed and Bucky tripped on the pillows trying to follow, two limbs not quite as agile as four. He face-planted onto the mattress, bouncing a couple of times before settling.

He was too tired for this shit.

He felt the bed dip as Steve came over to him, flopping down against Bucky’s side. He heaved one of those doggy sighs and rested his head on the small of Bucky’s back. It was a solid weight, warm and comforting.

“Whatever,” Bucky groaned.

Way too tired.

-

Bucky woke with a mouth full of fur.

The first realisation that came to his sleep-fogged mind was that he’d been cuddling Steve’s doggy ass in his sleep.

The second realisation was that he’d actually fallen back to sleep.

He spat fur out of his mouth and rolled onto his back, dragging his arm out from beneath Steve. For once, the metal felt as warm as his flesh.

Steve seemed to think this meant Bucky was awake and wanting attention, because he spun all 260 pounds of himself around ready to push his face into Bucky’s, dog breath and all.

Bucky eyed him. “Do not.”

Steve licked his cheek.

“Ugh, Steve.”

Steve did it again.

And Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, ex-Soviet assassin, _giggled._

Steve’s whole body perked up at the sound and he renewed his efforts. Paws on either side of Bucky’s head, it was all Bucky could do to fend off the onslaught when he was breathless from the laughter wracking through him.

Steve managed to get slobber all over his face and in his hair before Bucky yelled through broken laughter, “Okay, okay, I surrender!”

Steve collapsed onto his torso, knocking the remaining air out of Bucky’s lungs. He rested his head on Bucky’s chest while Bucky gazed at the ceiling and tried to get his breath back. The occasional laugh kept hiccuping out of him.

When he could breathe again and the laughter had finally died off, Bucky continued to stare up at the ceiling. After a few minutes of this, Steve wiggled closer and licked his chin.

Bucky sighed. “Why is it so much easier when you’re a dog?” he muttered. Steve whined. Bucky shook his head. He reached up and gripped the sides of Steve’s head, ruffling his fur. “You hungry?” he asked.

Bucky was going to assume the answer was yes by the way Steve basically started dancing, the way his tail was wagging so much. He jumped around on top of Bucky, yapping like an overgrown puppy.

“All right, all right, you gotta let me up– _Oof_.” Bucky exhaled sharply when Steve stepped on a particularly tender area. “Get off me, you big mutt.”

Steve jumped off the bed and bounded to the door, barking the whole way. Bucky prayed it was a reasonable hour of the morning for this much noise and that Natasha wouldn’t kill him if Steve had woken her up.

Bucky let Steve out and followed the clacking of his nails on the floorboards much more sedately. Steve skidded into the kitchen and Bucky heard Sam say, “Oh, hey, ARGH,” followed by a thud as Sam was most definitely knocked over by Steve’s enthusiasm.

Sure enough, as Bucky wandered out of the hallway, Sam was picking himself up off the floor as Steve danced around him.

“You need to get a leash,” Sam said.

Bucky ignored him, rummaging through the fridge. “Natasha up yet?” He pulled out a packet of bacon.

“Yeah, she already left.”

“What? What time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

“Shit,” Bucky whistled. He chucked a pan on the stove and tipped the whole packet of bacon in.

Sam smiled to himself. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said.

They fell into silence broken only by the sizzling of bacon and Steve’s hungry whining growls. Sam drank his coffee and looked at something on his phone. Bucky leant against the bench, occasionally prodding at the bacon. It was quiet, peaceful.

It had only been the three of them and Natasha at the compound for a while. Clint was at his farm, “enjoying retirement” he kept telling them. Vision and Wanda were in Scotland, last Bucky heard. Tony hadn’t been staying at the compound since he’d let Steve and Bucky back, which Bucky thought was good because he couldn’t handle the awkwardness. Banner came by every now and again, but never for too long.

So, even though it was only ever four people and the compound was ridiculously big (Bucky thought Tony was overcompensating) so that it sometimes felt like there was no one else but Bucky, rarely did it feel this peaceful.

He knew why. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew why.

It was Steve. Steve and his expectations. Steve and his eyebrows of disappointment. Steve and his “hey, Bucky, remember when?”

Steve and his Bucky, who was not this Bucky. Not the person Bucky had worked so hard to become, who still didn’t seem good enough for Steve. Steve’s Bucky was dead, had died in a Hydra lab seventy years ago, had died in cyro over and over again, and sometimes Bucky wondered if Steve resented him for that a little. For coming back, but not really. For being Bucky, but not how Steve remembered.

Bucky resented himself for that a little.

Steve whined and head-butted Bucky in the thigh. Bucky almost staggered over. “What?”

The bacon was burning.

Bucky swore and pulled it off the stove, tipping it on to a plate. Much to Steve’s annoyance, he let it cool some before putting it on the ground. Steve was already inhaling the stuff before Bucky had let go.

“Chew your food, you dumb dog.”

As Bucky fixed some cereal for himself, Sam put his phone down and looked up at Bucky. “Natasha’s gone to Stark’s to see if he or Banner know how to reverse this.”

Bucky dropped onto a stool beside Sam with his Cap’n Crunch, the cereal brand Steve found most offensive so the one Bucky obviously bought.

“Shouldn’t we be trying to get in touch with Thor? I mean, isn’t alien magic mumbo jumbo kinda his thing?”

“Yeah, but no one knows how to get in touch with Thor. He sort of just, shows up.”

“Doesn’t he have an email?” Bucky could’ve sworn he’d seen godofthunderrox@stark.net in his contacts before.

“He doesn’t have a computer,” Sam said.

“Ah.”

Steve had licked his plate clean and now ambled over to see if Bucky was eating anything interesting. He pushed his head under Bucky’s arm and licked at the bowl. Bucky grimaced and shoved him away.

“So what do we do?” Bucky asked.

Sam shrugged. “Wait and see what they come up with, I guess. Berate Steve for being a dumbass.”

Bucky looked at Steve, who wagged his tail. “You dumbass.”

Sam laughed and stood. Steve hurried over to see if he was doing anything exciting. “I gotta head to the VA. You gonna be okay?”

It was what they always asked him when they left him alone. Because Bucky wasn’t going out on missions, but nothing was going to stop Steve from that and somehow he had convinced Sam – who Bucky actually thought was a smart guy, not that he’d ever admit it to Sam’s face – it was a good idea too. Natasha went with them because she thought it was fun. Bucky wondered if he would find it fun if he went, which was half of why he didn’t.

So sometimes Bucky was left alone, and they always asked him if he was going to be okay. Like it mattered what his answer was.

Bucky nodded, and Sam nodded. “Okay. You have my number. Call me if anything happens.”

Bucky saluted, his mouth conveniently full of cereal. Sam eyed him for a second longer, before he patted Steve’s head. Steve followed him to the door and whined when it was closed in his face. He looked back at Bucky.

“Don’t worry, pal, Sam’ll be back.”

Steve barked and pawed at the door.

“Do you want to go outside?” Bucky asked. Steve cocked his head to the side, listening. “We have to go out the back. Come on.” Bucky got up, and Steve bounded over, following Bucky through the compound.

Bucky pulled on his boots that were kicked haphazardly just inside the door, and they stepped out into the morning air.

The compound was a couple of acres of buildings and open spaces, surrounded by tall trees. A couple of hours north of New York City, the air was clean and Bucky breathed it all the way into his lungs.

When he was younger, he’d never thought he’d live anywhere but Brooklyn. It had been his home. But then the war had ripped that away, and Hydra had ripped away the rest, until he could no longer imagine any sort of home at all.

They’d tried going back. Steve had insisted. “Home’s home,” he had said to Bucky, who had never been able to say no to Steve, not even now.

So they’d gone back. But Brooklyn was different; it looked different, and smelled different. And Bucky was different. He couldn’t even leave the apartment without hyperventilating. There were too many people; there was too much sound. And he couldn’t say anything to Steve because Steve had already given up everything for Bucky.

They’d lasted three months before Steve insisted on moving again, to the compound upstate even though he still had that thing with Tony Stark. He said it was to be closer to the team, but Bucky knew better because he knew Steve.

And Steve knew him.

Neither of them said anything about it, and they moved to the compound the next day. Bucky felt better here, could breathe easier, but it still didn’t feel like home.

Steve whined, still at Bucky’s side.

“What are you waiting for?” Bucky waved a hand. “Go on.”

Steve looked up at him, almost like he was hesitating, before letting out an excited bark and bounding forward. He raced across the compound, scattering some birds from the driveway. He looked so carefree, barking after them as they flew away.

Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets and followed Steve.

It wasn’t bad all the time, being at the compound. The majority of the time it was good. The goddamn floors were heated in this place and he was warm all the time. The cupboards were always filled with food and Bucky had spent hours picking favourites flavours again. And Steve was here, just down the hall, or drawing in the sunlight in the reading room, or laughing with his arm on the back of couch behind Bucky’s shoulders as they watched a movie.

It was safe here. The only danger was boredom, but even that was nearly impossible with the Internet, and Netflix, and Mario Kart. Not to mention the state of the art gym that could handle anything Bucky or Steve could throw at it. Which they had done, numerous times, and sparring with Steve was one of the times Bucky felt closest to happy. Even when Steve had to cheat to win. Especially then.

It was good. Even Steve seemed more at home here than Brooklyn, quickly getting over the slump he’d been in when they’d first moved in. Being around the team was good for him. Sam was good for him, and so was Natasha even. Bucky was glad Steve had them, even if he felt something like jealousy creep up his spine sometimes.

It was good, but Bucky always felt like he had to try.

He also sort of felt like he was failing.

Steve cocked his leg at every interesting smell, but thankfully loped into the trees to do the rest of his business. Bucky didn’t really want to see Captain America taking a shit even in dog form.

They wandered the woods for a couple of hours, Steve following his nose and Bucky following Steve. Bucky called him back when his stomach started growling and they went to have lunch. A sandwich for Bucky and ham for Steve, though Bucky let him lick the mustard knife much to his doggy delight.

Afterwards, Bucky wandered into the lounge.

When Steve was around, he was always finding something for the two of them to do. Training (fun), jogging (ugh), movie nights (fun), having lunch with the others (this one was either fun or ugh depending on his mood). When Bucky was alone, he slumped on the couch and did nothing. Only this time, Steve immediately jumped on top of him.

He clambered all over Bucky trying to get comfortable, and collapsed across Bucky’s chest. Bucky eyed him. “Are you done?”

Steve yawned, revealing pointed canines, his pink tongue lolling out. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“What are we going to do with you, hey?” Bucky murmured. Steve cocked his head. Bucky reached up and scratched his ears. “What are we gonna do?” Bucky dug his fingers in and Steve groaned in doggy bliss. “You know, if the others don’t come up with anything, I’m not telling Fury that Captain America is a big-ass golden retriever.”

Steve’s back leg started thumping against Bucky’s thigh as Bucky hit the sweet spot.

“Oh my God,” Bucky said. “Look at you. You really are just a dumb dog. You have no idea what I’m saying right now, do you? Hey? You dumb punk. Always getting yourself into trouble. Can’t help yourself, can you? Can you?”

Bucky stopped suddenly when he realised the high-pitched, baby voice was coming out of his mouth. The goddamn Winter Solider. If anyone heard him talking to a dog like that, he was going to have to kill them.

Steve pushed his head back into Bucky’s hand, trying to get him to keep scratching.

Bucky sighed. “Why do you always have to get yourself into trouble? Why do you always have to be fighting? Isn’t it just enough being here with–” He stopped himself before he could say _with me_.

Of course it wasn’t enough. Steve wasn’t ever going to stop, not when the people who had killed Bucky were still out there. He was always going to throw himself into a fight because that was who Steve Rogers was.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Bucky said, reaching up with his metal hand to scratch Steve’s other ear as well. Steve didn’t know which way to tilt his head and slumped it against Bucky. “People are always gonna need saving, so obviously you’re always gonna try and save them. But I think you’re also stuck trying to save me.

“I don’t want to hold you back. That’s the last thing I want. But you’ve already saved me. This is it. This is all you’re getting. The person I used to be is gone and they’re not coming back. And you need to accept that, you stubborn bastard.” He squeezed Steve’s face, squishing his cheeks so his eyes were all squinty. Steve’s tail wagged some more. “Okay. Accept it. Accept me.”

He leaned forward and buried his face in the scruff of Steve’s neck, because somehow it was easier there.

“Aren’t I enough?”

-

Sam came home just as the sky was dusting bronze. Natasha’s car was still gone when he pulled into the garage, which meant she was probably staying at the city. He glanced at his phone as he got out but there was no new texts. So, they still hadn’t found anything.

The compound was dark, quiet. Low lights turned on automatically as Sam entered and walked towards the kitchen. He heard the soft rumble of the television and saw the flickering of the screen.

Sam poked his head around the corner. Bucky was sprawled on the couch, head lolling against the armrest with his mouth slightly parted as he slept. He looked so much younger, so much lighter.

Steve was draped over him, his head on Bucky’s chest. He wasn’t sleeping, though. Sam could see him watching Bucky’s face. When Sam entered the room, he lifted his head to see who it was and meet Sam’s eyes.

Sam crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. “Hey, man.”

Steve blinked at him, head cocked to one side.

Bucky still snored quietly, but Sam found himself saying, “Natasha hasn’t found anything. They’re still looking. Last I heard they were talking about calling some doctor.”

Steve huffed a breath and looked back at Bucky.

“You know exactly what I’m saying, don’t you?” Sam asked.

Steve looked at Sam again and opened his mouth in a doggy grin.

Sam laughed. “You sly dog.”

At the sound, Bucky stirred. Steve’s tail started thumping like mad and he pushed his face into Bucky’s and began licking all over.

Sam burst out laughing.

Bucky made a disgusted sound and pushed at Steve with his metal arm. Even then he looked like he was straining to keep Steve back. Bucky glared at Sam from beneath the mass of golden retriever. “Help.”

Still laughing, Sam grabbed Steve around the middle and together the two of them managed to heave him off Bucky. Damn, he was a lot heavier than he looked.

Bucky sat up and as soon as Sam let go of him, Steve was jumping back onto the couch. He curled up in the space Bucky had made and rested his head on Bucky’s knee. Absently, Bucky laid a metal hand on Steve’s hand.

“Did you hear from Natasha?” he asked, eyes on the TV.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Nothing yet.”

Bucky tensed and Steve wiggled under his hand until Bucky began to stroke him.

“We’ll find something, man,” Sam said. “He’ll be telling us all off again in no time.”

Bucky huffed, but his eyes remained distant. Sam wanted to ask how he was feeling, but he didn’t want to push because walls slammed up when people pushed Bucky. It was why he and Steve got into so many fights. Sam had tried explaining it to Steve but… Steve was a stubborn asshole.

Sam loved him, really. Steve was one of the good ones. But he was emotionally constipated and extremely thick.

“I don’t know what I’d do,” Bucky muttered at last. Sam waited. “I don’t know what I’d do if he doesn’t come back.”

“You’d still be his friend,” Sam said simply, and Bucky looked at him. “Because he’s still Steve, even if he’s different, right?”

Bucky looked down at Steve and Steve gazed right back up.

“Right,” Bucky murmured. Steve’s tail swished twice.

“And he’s home.”

Bucky looked up at Sam sharply. “What do you mean?”

Sam smiled. “Home’s not always just a place, man. But don’t worry, we’re gonna find something and we’re gonna get him back. Star spangled ass and all.”

-

“Whoa, whose dog?!”

Steve lifted his head from his paws where he lay under Bucky’s chair. Bucky looked around as that Parker kid dropped a backpack and laptop bag on the couch and came over.

“Can I pet him?” the kid asked.

“Uh,” Bucky said, “sure.”

Peter crouched down and ruffled Steve’s fur. “Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog?” Steve rolled onto his back, totally unashamed, and Parker went to town on his belly. “Aw! Is he yours? What’s his name?”

“Steve.”

Parker paused. “You named your dog after your best friend? That’s kinda weird.”

“I dunno,” Bucky shrugged. “Could be a sign of true friendship.”

Parker frowned at him, probably trying to work out if Bucky was being sarcastic. “Nah. It’s just weird. Does Captain Rogers know?”

At that moment, Sam showed up. “Oh, hey, kid, Stark said you’d be coming down. I see you’ve seen what happened to Steve.”

“I just met Steve,” Parker said, confused. “Does Captain Rogers know Sargent Barnes named his dog after him?”

Sam looked from Parker to Bucky and back again. “Kid, that is Captain Rogers. Nazis turned him into a dog.”

Peter blinked and just as quickly snatched his hands from Steve’s belly.

“Oh my God,” he said, glaring accusingly at Bucky. “You let me give Captain America a belly rub!”

Bucky was about one muscle off grinning completely. “It looked like he was enjoying it.”

“Oh my God.” Parker turned to Steve, who was staring at him as though Peter had betrayed him by stopping the rubbing. “I am so sorry, sir.”

“Calm down, kid, he’s all dog in there.”

As if to prove Bucky’s point, Steve started licking some more private areas.

Parker went bright red. “This is the most embarrassed I’ve ever been.”

Bucky snorted and went back to his book.

“How did this even happen?” Parker asked. He was still staring at Steve like he was torn between resuming giving his idol a belly rub, and never patting a dog again.

Bucky let Sam explain. Steve flopped onto his side and, hesitantly, Parker reached out again to pet him. Steve’s tail wagged encouragingly.

Sam finished with, “So, if you have any ideas how to fix this…”

“This happens all the time in movies,” Parker said.

Bucky closed his book and looked up. “Oh yeah? And how do they fix it?”

“Well, you just gotta kiss him.”

Bucky stared at him. “What?”

“Yeah, you know. Like in Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, the Princess and the Frog. Shrek.”

“Kid, this isn’t a fairytale.”

Sam shrugged. “Could be worth a shot.”

“I’m not kissing him!” Bucky exclaimed.

Sam smirked. “Who said it was gonna be you?”

Bucky shut his mouth.

“Yeah,” Parker said. “It’s gotta be, like, a prince or princess usually. Or, you know, true love.”

“Great,” Bucky said. “Do you know any princes or princesses we can ask?”

Eyes wide, Parker shook his head.

“And what about a true love?”

Another shake.

“There you go, then.”

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was so mad about the idea (aside from the fact that it was a dumbass idea). He was mad in general about the whole situation, and this kid was jumping in with fucking fairytale solutions like they were all a part of some happily ever after. Yeah, right.

Something in Bucky’s tone must have alerted Steve’s doggy compassion because he left Peter’s belly rubs to sit and lean against Bucky’s knee.

Sam watched Steve for a moment, then sat back and clapped his hands together. “I think we should give it a shot.”

“What?” Bucky said. Even Peter looked surprised, like he knew his idea was just bullshit.

“What’s there to lose?” Sam said, shrugging.

“Dignity,” Peter muttered.

As much as Bucky didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but agree with the kid. Even so. “This was your idea.”

“I know, but I didn’t actually think you’d go for it. I thought the Avengers would have, you know, better ideas.”

“Clearly you haven’t spent much time around the Avengers,” Bucky muttered. “Particularly their leader.” He prodded Steve.

“Just kiss him,” Sam said.

“No,” Bucky said. “You do it.”

“Nah, we don’t have ninety years of codependency issues. We’ve got a healthy relationship. You have to kiss him.”

And then, like a child, Sam began to chant. Peter, who Bucky was going to kill later, joined in.

“ _Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him._ ”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because it might be true for me but it’s not for him!”

Complete silence followed his outburst.

Parker mouthed, _Awkward._

“It won’t work,” Bucky said softly, and he had to look away from the others. His eyes landed on Steve, still leaning against his side, looking up at him. Bucky scratched his ear absently. “He doesn’t feel the same.”

Sam’s voice was gentle. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s only ever looked at Peggy and her niece.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, what?”

Bucky and Sam ignored him. Sam said, “But you’ve never asked him.”

“Because I know what the answer will be! I’ve already put him through enough without adding the awkwardness if he knew how I felt.”

Bucky had thought about telling Steve, when these particular memories had come back – and, really, he should have realised all along – but he never had. He was already so different to the friend Steve remembered from the past and Bucky couldn’t risk telling him. What if this was too much and Bucky lost him?

Steve was his best friend, and if that was all Bucky got then Bucky would die happy. But Steve was also it for him. It was a simple as that.

Sam was watching him, looking too damn sympathetic. Parker still looked awkward.

“I’m not doing it,” Bucky said.

“Come on,” Sam said. “It’s true love’s kiss. It cures everything.”

“In complete offence, that’s ridiculous,” said a voice from behind them.

Steve lifted his head and let out a booming bark. Parker backflipped away from them and ended up on the side of the wall. Sam jolted right out of his chair. And Bucky had a knife out before the last note of Steve’s bark faded.

Some superheroes the other two were.

Some kind of portal had opened up in the kitchen and a man with a goatee and a red cloak (Bucky thought the goatee seemed more important) had stepped out of it.

Bucky stood with Steve growling, hackles raised, at his side. “Who the hell are you?”

“Stephen Strange,” the man said. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“What message?”

He pointed to the fridge. Someone (probably Clint) had bought a magnetic alphabet. More often than not, it spelled out rude words. Right now, it said: OMW – DR STRANGE

“What the fuck,” Bucky said.

“Anyway,” Strange said. “I’m here to help with the, uh, dog situation.” He looked at Steve. “Aw. Captain America’s such a cutie.”

“Stark sent you?” Sam asked, recovering his manliness and moving to stand beside Bucky.

“And how do you know true love’s kiss wouldn’t work?” Parker asked defensively, detaching from the wall, back on board with his bullshit now that someone was calling it out.

“I’m a master of the mystic arts,” Strange said. “I think I would know. And yes, Stark sent me. I think I can fix this.”

“How?” Bucky asked. He laid a hand on Steve’s back. Steve had stopped growling and was sniffing interestedly at Strange’s cloak. And edge of the cloak reached out and scratched Steve behind the ears.

What the fuck.

“Not with a kiss,” Strange said, and almost smirked. “Captain, come over here.”

“Oh,” Bucky began, “he’s all dog, he doesn’t understand…” But Bucky trailed off as Steve walked obediently over to Strange’s side.

Strange glanced at Bucky. “He might physically be a dog, yes, but he’s still retained all of his human consciousness.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Steve looked back at him almost apologetically.

Well, shit.

“I let you lick my face.” It slipped out before Bucky could stop it.

Everyone gave him a look.

Dr Strange cleared his throat. “Captain, please sit. This shouldn’t hurt, but it might be a little disorientating.”

With that, he began to move his hands in a complex gesture. Bright lines of red light manifested around his wrists and fingers.

He flicked Steve in the forehead.

Steve crumpled.

“Hey–!” Bucky shouted, starting forward. Sam grabbed his arm.

The red lines of light had transferred from Strange’s hands to Steve’s body, encircling him. They ran from his head down his neck, over his torso and haunches, and then his tail. The lights faded, and the dog’s body faded with them, and suddenly Steve was human and naked on the floor.

Everyone stared, because, well.

Steve groaned and pushed up onto one elbow, raising a hand to his head. “Wha…?”

“Man,” Sam said. “Cover yourself.” He threw a cushion at Steve. Steve arranged it accordingly.

“Well, I’m glad that worked,” Strange said. “If he keeps sticking his head out car windows and chasing rabbits, give me a call.”

Another portal opened up behind him – Bucky caught a glimpse of a dusty looking library – and Strange stepped back into it and disappeared. That was kinda cool.

When Bucky looked back at Steve, he found Steve watching him.

“Bucky,” Steve said.

But Bucky couldn’t.

He took a step back, away, and then he wasn’t quite running out of the room.

He bolted into his bedroom and slammed the door, leaning back against the wood. He was probably being dramatic, but he didn’t care. He’d spilled his guts to doggy Steve, off-loaded all his pain and doubts because he thought Steve wouldn’t have a damn clue what he was saying.

God, what an idiot.

If Steve hadn’t resented Bucky before, he sure as hell would now.

Steve had given everything for Bucky, and all Bucky wanted was more–

“Buck!” Steve banged on the door, much like he had the other night. Only this time he was calling Bucky’s name rather than barking. Bucky couldn’t decide if it was an improvement. “C’mon, Bucky. Let me in.”

“Go away.”

There was a pause. For a moment, Bucky thought Steve really had left. But Steve had never done that to Bucky before, so why the hell would he start now.

“Why do you think I’m gonna hate you?”

“Because I’m not the guy you thought you saved,” Bucky said to his room. “And now you know that, why are you gonna wanna hang around?”

“Because you’re still my friend,” Steve said, quietly, to the wood on the other side of Bucky’s door. “You’re still Bucky, even if you’re different.”

And then, so quiet that Bucky could have pretended not to hear it if he chose, could have let Steve go and continued on as they had been, never knowing what it could mean, Steve whispered, “You’re my home.”

Bucky stood and opened the door.

Steve stood on the other side, thankfully wearing pants. He looked at Bucky, his face open and honest and determined. A little nervous, too, like he couldn’t really believe what Bucky had said. As though confessions to an animal weren’t truer than confessionals.

“You mean it?” Bucky asked. “Because I’m not who I was."

"Neither am I."

"It's not the same. Hydra ripped pieces out of me and they’re never coming back. I want you to know that. I’m not… whole.”

“Bucky,” Steve said, cupping his face with warm, wide palms. “You’re more than enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic i don't really know what i'm doing


End file.
